


Chairman Of The Bored

by micehell



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Alley Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-04
Updated: 2005-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur sees Curt around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chairman Of The Bored

Title blatantly stolen from the Iggy Pop song 'I'm Bored'.

 

“See ya around.” Then Curt turned and left the bar.

And that would have been the end of it. Arthur would never have imagined that Curt actually meant it. Why should he?

But then he’d found the pin, hidden in his beer like the toy surprise in a box of Cracker Jacks. Brian’s pin. Curt’s pin. Now, apparently, Arthur’s pin. Arthur hadn’t wanted it, had politely declined it, but was glad to have it now.

When it was on Curt, it was Brian’s mark. A tie to a past that should have been past years ago, but seemed to have held on. Until tonight. Now if anyone was wearing a mark, Arthur was wearing Curt’s. Which he could deal with.

Curt had told him once about a freedom you allowed yourself – but Arthur allowed himself none. Here he was living in the supposed land of the free, and he was in a cage of his own making. Dull, boring, bored.

“See ya around.”

Would he? Was Curt just using it as a form of goodbye, or was it a promise? Curt always did litter his conversation with truths disguised as simple comments. Maybe it was up to Arthur to make sure.

He felt his self-imposed conditioning take over, telling him what a bad idea that was. That Curt hadn’t meant anything by the comment. That it was too dangerous even if he had. But Arthur shook the voice off, tired of its whine. Tired of hiding who he was, what he was. Tired of simply taking what he was given. It wasn’t how he’d wanted to live. It certainly wasn’t what he’d lost his family over.

“See ya around.”

Oh, yes, he definitely would.

::::::::::

 

He found him at the mouth of an alley not two blocks away from the bar, cigarette smoked almost to the filter.

In the face of his prey, Arthur began to feel a little nervous. “Did you mean it?”

Curt stubbed out the cigarette, not looking at him at all. “Did I mean what?”

“You said that you’d see me around. Did you mean it?”

Curt smiled, finally making eye contact. “Doesn’t look like it matters if I meant it or not, as here you are.”

Which frustrated Arthur no end, making his nervousness disappear under a wave of aggression. He stepped closer to Curt, hemming him in against the rough wall of the alley. “Then how about the pin?”

Curt made no move to escape, simply shook his head. “How about the pin, what?”

Arthur leaned a hand against the wall, inches from Curt’s face. “You weren’t trying something giving me the pin?”

A tilt of his head brought Curt’s face almost in contact with Arthur’s arm. The heat of the skin, the seeming capitulation of the man, made Arthur hard, almost from one moment to the next.

Curt reached in his jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He took his time getting one out, rolling it around his lips before taking it between them, eyes never leaving Arthur. In an almost perfectly steady voice, he said, “I seem to remember that I’d already tried something with you. That’s why I gave it to you. And because I didn’t need it any more.” His gaze flitted down momentarily to light his cigarette, but returned to Arthur’s as he blew a small cloud of smoke in his face. “You said you didn’t want it, so what’s the big deal?”

Arthur breathed past the smell of tobacco, took in the unpleasant scents from the alley and the lighter, lingering scent of Curt. There was a subtle, spicy smell, probably aftershave, which almost completely overlaid the musk of arousal. Almost completely. He leaned closer, wanting to breathe that one in deep. “I didn’t want something of Brian’s. Is there anything of Brian’s here?”

Curt laughed, eyes wistful. “There’s nothing here that Brian cares anything about. Unless you have a story you want to share.”

Arthur wanted to drive that look out of Curt’s eyes. Let Brian be the memory he was supposed to be, not a ghost standing between them. He thought of exorcising him, of driving Brian out. Which led, quite naturally considering which part of him was in control, to thoughts of driving into Curt. He pushed in closer, driving Curt back into the wall with the force of his need. He felt another hardness beneath his own, causing him to grind his hips in, drawing out a moan from both of them.

Curt’s arms were around him, holding him there. Hips met in equal need. The still-lighted cigarette dropped to the ground as he panted, “Whatever you need. Take it. Whatever you need.”

Even though it was what he wanted, the comment made Arthur angry. What would Curt, with his rock star’s lifestyle, with his do what you want attitude, know about what Arthur needed. Even while their hips rocked together, he growled, “Don’t try to understand me, you have no idea.”

Curt sneered. “What, that you’re lonely. Yeah, I couldn’t possibly understand, because I’m Mr. Popularity over here. I have no clue what it is to live a gray, boring life.” Curt shook his head. “I have no idea? You have no idea. I’m not just bored, I’m chairman of the bored.”

It stopped Arthur cold. He’d known that they’d had something in common, once. The mark of Cain, that Curt had flaunted and that Arthur had only revealed partly through inadvertence. He would never have imagined that there were any other similarities between them. As a reporter, he should have known better than to believe what someone showed to the public. Or even what a member of the press wrote.

How this magical creature, the inspiration for so many fantasies… with the beautiful, strong features, the mole on the cheek adding elegance to sensuality… how this cynic with poet’s eyes could be living the same miserable life as him was just wrong. It was all wrong.

And all past. Pushing Curt further down the alley, hiding his need with shadows, he wasted no time on niceties. He had Curt’s pants undone, straining cock jerking in his hand, even while he was trying to get his own pants open. Curt’s hands took over that task, leaving him free to explore what was being offered. He’d seen this body before, but the memory was somewhat hazed by both drugs and time.

Here it was before him, a landscape well worth exploring. He ran his hand up under Curt’s shirt, the cloth following his path as he trailed fingers over the flat planes of Curt’s stomach, up to the gentle swell of his pectorals.

Curt had his pants open, and Arthur’s cock was almost tapping his stomach he was so hard. He felt the calluses left by guitar strings as Curt’s hand rubbed around the head and shaft, leaving him shivering in need.

Shifting the soft cloth of Curt’s shirt so that it would stay up, he allowed his hand to twist and tweak the exposed nipples, their rose hue darkened by his touch and the night around them. Their swollen, sensitive tips were a tiny match to the cock head that Arthur was gripping.

He ran his hand down the shaft, matching the movement of Curt’s hand on his own, the head leaving wet smears on his wrist, then twisted round to the top again. Curt groaned his appreciation, the bass rumble so close to Arthur’s ear driving his need further.

“I want in you.” Arthur managed to get that out with what little breath he had to spare.

Curt paused, looking doubtful. The feel of Arthur’s hand pushing down the back of his pants to slide a finger down the cleft of his ass seemed to settle the issue. “Ok. I have a condom in my pocket.”

Happy that one of them could still think, Arthur felt around for the condom, getting distracted by the firm flesh beneath the pocket, but eventually attaining his goal.

Curt took the packet from his hand, tearing it open with his teeth. “We don’t have any lube.”

They hadn’t had any their first time either, but they’d worked it out. Arthur ran two fingers along Curt’s lips, sighing when they were sucked in; a tongue swirled along their tips.

He was so entranced by his fingers in that mouth that he started when he felt the fingers on his cock, rolling the condom down its length. The thin layer of rubber cut down sensation enough that he didn’t come immediately, but he had to move Curt’s hands away.

He pushed his slicked fingers into Curt’s tight body, loving the feel of the clench around them. He wanted in there so bad. He scissored the fingers apart, forcing the stretch, arcing them to stroke the inner walls until he heard Curt hiss as he brushed his prostate.

Curt was moaning “Now!” over and over, and Arthur fully agreed. He pulled one of Curt’s knees up into the crook of his arm and was shoving in even as Curt’s moan filled with pain.

He was almost beyond pausing, but Curt said, “Don’t stop”, so he didn’t have to, and then he was all the way inside and on fire. His head was humming, every nerve lighted with the feel of Curt, being inside Curt, slamming into Curt. He felt more than heard the gasps that were pushed from the other man as he thrust in hard, tilting to rake against the gland inside.

Curt pushed his shoulders back against the wall, the rough texture of brick digging in and providing traction as he raised his other leg and hugged it tightly around Arthur’s waist. Drawing Arthur in just that tiniest bit further. Arthur leaned both hands against the wall, holding on against the weight of Curt’s body, using the resistance to push harder into the willing flesh.

Curt’s hand fisting his erection slapped against Arthur’s stomach, the sound a counterpoint to the slap of their hips, a slick, sucking sound underlying it as they moved together, rhythm speeding up as they neared climax.

Then Curt’s ass was contracting around his cock, even as it swelled, and Curt was yelling, or he was yelling, Arthur couldn’t tell which as the world whited out around him, and the only thing he was aware of was the almost unbearable pleasure centering from his groin. It was only luck and friction that kept them from falling to the ground afterwards.

As he came back to Earth, Arthur looked into that face, so much more beautiful than his dreams, and he felt compelled to kiss it. So he did.

They kissed. And then they kissed. And eventually even Arthur needed air, so they stopped for as long as it took to gasp in a couple of deep breaths, and then they kissed again. They finally broke apart, a trail of saliva lingering between their parted lips until Curt licked it away. If Arthur had still been eighteen, he probably would have been good to go again just from that sight, but he wasn’t. So this would have to be enough.

But it wasn’t enough. The sweet kiss on his lips, the sight of that flushed face, the panting breath stuttering in his ear, the clasp of that amazing ass around his softened cock, the smell of sex heavy in the air. It wasn’t enough.

“I want you.”

Curt groaned as Arthur slipped out of him. “I think you had me.”

Arthur took another kiss, feeding the addiction. “I want you.”

Curt blinked, smiled. “Ok.”

Pulling off the condom and tying it off, Arthur threw it back into the alley; sure it wouldn’t be the only one back there. He pulled his clothes back in order as he thought about what he truly wanted from Curt. His assertiveness was waning as the moment ended, but the memory of what it had gained him led him on. “My place. Tonight. Well, tomorrow night. Whatever. Eight o’clock.”

Curt nodded as he was doing up his own pants. “Great. Except I have no clue where you live.”

Arthur grinned. The blood was having a hard time returning to his head. “3336 Belmont. Don’t be late.”

Curt looked at him, brows raised in challenge. “What if I am?”

His eyes narrowed at the thought of Curt being late, or even not showing. “I’m a reporter. You don’t want to piss me off or who knows what I’ll write about you.”

Curt gave a mock shiver. “Oh, the horrors.” Then he laughed. “Like you could write anything worse than what’s already been done.”

Arthur frowned. He didn’t want reality to intrude just yet. He ignored that subject in favor of his own worry. “You’ll come, won’t you?”

Curt’s face immediately lightened. He winked and said, “Oh, coming’s definitely in the plan. But, then, 69’s always been my lucky number.” And with a wiggle of his hips, he walked away.

“See ya around.”

/story

If you’re shaking your head, wondering what that idiot 69 comment was about, it’s Arthur’s address.  



End file.
